


Your Favorite Color Is Green

by theletterdee



Series: Axios - "I Am Worthy" [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Original Character Death(s), Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterdee/pseuds/theletterdee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt on tumblr: 9. “The sun’s almost down. Won’t be long now.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Favorite Color Is Green

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the song of the same name from the Mockingjay Part 2 soundtrack that I had on repeat while writing

_ was supposed to be Cassandra/Bree, but turned into Cassandra/Bree/Varric, ah well. [also listen to this on repeat while reading](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DzSh-TL1pUI8&t=NGYyNzEwYmZmYWYyODA2ZGIyYWQyMDFjYzMxZmExYWNhMGNhNjNmZCw0eURoRWxOQw%3D%3D) _

* * *

_“The sun’s almost down. Won’t be long now.”_

Bree stirred under Cassandra’s trembling fingers as the Seeker gently caressed her pale forehead and cheek. Her bare fingertips smeared bloody lines across freckles and the emerald green of Bree’s _vallaslin_ almost like war paint.

The Inquisitor’s breathing was shallower now, whistling slightly with each exhale and her eyes were closed. Cassandra knew it was only a matter of time by now. The wound had been too deep, they’d reached Bree too late, all they could do now was wait. The wind from the Frostbacks cut through Cassandra’s armor and ruffled Bree’s fiery hair, but Cassandra felt none of it. Not the cold, not the blood seeping into her leggings from Bree’s fatal wound, nor the weight of Varric’s comforting hand on her shoulder, his warmth at her side as they spent these last quiet moments with the woman they had both grown to love since that fateful day in Haven.

Bree’s eyes fluttered and opened after the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the stars arrived with the coming darkness, “Th-the… stars…” She choked out, a rivulet of blood spilling out from the corner of her lips and disappearing down her jaw into her hair.

“Just rest, Bree,” Cassandra gently shushed her, trying to hold back her tears.

“It’ll be over soon, Kitten,” Varric whispered, his hand smoothing back Bree’s hair from her face. 

“ _Ir abelas… ma vhenans,_ ” Bree coughed and gasped for air. “ _Ir abelas…”_

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love, nothing,” Cassandra insisted.

“I love… I love you.”

“We know, Kitten, we know,” Varric pressed a kiss to Bree’s forehead, his tears landing on her cheeks as she fought to stay with them just a few moments longer.

“V’rric,” she whispered.

“Yes?”

“The… the words… you know them?”

Varric nodded, not looking up at Cassandra’s inquiring eyes, “I do.”

“Please.”

“Anything for you, Kit.” Bree closed her eyes and Varric pressed another kiss to her forehead, “ _Ma ghilana mala din'an, emma lath.**”_ He began to sing, softly and often having to stop to swallow his tears as Bree’s breathing slowed, her body slackening in Cassandra’s arms with every halting line of Varric’s sorrow filled rendition of the Dalish eulogy. Cassandra wondered where he’d learned it, probably Merrill taught him, and she caught herself humming along as Bree slipped out of this world and into the next.

Knowing that she was finally gone, Cassandra let the tears fall, they soaked Bree’s hair as she clutched her closer as a child would a toy in need of comfort. She heard people sobbing and realized it was her and Varric, both weeping over the body of their dead lover.

History would remember Bree as the Savior of Southern Thedas, Freer of Mages, Defeater of a Black Magister, but it wouldn’t capture the way she could light up a room with her smile, how she shone with pride when her children accomplished a task, how her innocence hid the honed political mind, and how she was a gracious and giving lover. The world would mourn their hero, but move on, but for Cassandra and Varric the world had stopped turning.

* * *

 

_**Ma ghilana mala din’an, emma lath_ = roughly “may you be guided into death, my love” (though I could be wrong)

the song Varric sings is _[this one](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DEAANKFPchtA&t=OGU1YTZkZTUwYjc5ZDdhZWZhYmExMjJjNGE2NTFmNTFmYjJmZWMwNyw0eURoRWxOQw%3D%3D)_


End file.
